Dr. Leslie in his quiet study almost wished that he were beginning life again, and sometimes in the twilight, or in long and lonely country drives, believed himself ready to go back twenty years so that he could follow Nan into the future and watch her successes.  But he always smiled afterward at such a thought.  Twenty years would carry him back to the time when his ward was a little child, not long before she came to live with him.  It was best as God had planned it.  Nobody had watched the child’s development as he had done, or her growth of character, of which all the performances of her later years would be to him only the unnecessary proofs and evidences.  He knew that she would be faithful in great things, because she had been faithful in little things, and he should be with her a long time yet, perhaps.  God only knew.

There was a great change in the village; there were more small factories now which employed large numbers of young women, and though a new doctor had long ago come to Oldfields who had begun by trying to supersede Dr. Leslie, he had ended by longing to show his gratitude some day for so much help and kindness.  More than one appointment had been offered the heroine of this story in the city hospitals.  She would have little trouble in making her way since she had the requisite qualities, natural and acquired, which secure success.  But she decided for herself that she would neither do this, nor carry out yet the other plan of going on with her studies at some school across the sea.  Zurich held out a great temptation, but there was time enough yet, and she would spend a year in Oldfields with the doctor, studying again with him, since she knew better than ever before that she could find no wiser teacher.  And it was a great pleasure to belong to the dear old town, to come home to it with her new treasures, so much richer than she had gone away that beside medicines and bandages and lessons in general hygiene for the physical ails of her patients, she could often be a tonic to the mind and soul; and since she was trying to be good, go about doing good in Christ’s name to the halt and maimed and blind in spiritual things.

Nobody sees people as they are and finds the chance to help poor humanity as a doctor does.  The decorations and deceptions of character must fall away before the great realities of pain and death.  The secrets of many hearts and homes must be told to this confessor, and sadder ailments than the text-books name are brought to be healed by the beloved physicians.  Teachers of truth and givers of the laws of life, priests and ministers,—­all these professions are joined in one with the gift of healing, and are each part of the charge that a good doctor holds in his keeping.